Two and a Half Months
by breakfastwithfairies
Summary: Denmark has been away on a trip for two and a half months, and Norway is writing in his diary to describe how it's been without him as he anticipates his arrival back home. DenNor, hints of HongIce and SuFin.


Dear Diary,  
I only have to wait three more hours. He's finally going to be home.  
These past two and a half months started out great. Finland and I did fun things together like go out for coffee and spend the day at the bookstore (maybe a little bit too often. Three times a week and the clerks at Barnes and Noble began sending questioning glances our way when we'd once again settle down with a latte in one of those comfortable little sitting areas in the middle of the store). We went to four heavy metal concerts in the span of two weeks also. Though I think Sweden was a little bit dismayed at having less time with his "wife," he took the opportunity to fix things up around their house while Finland and I did all the things I wasn't available to do when that big loud Dane was stomping around all of the time. I must say I enjoyed the quiet a lot at the beginning; it was much easier to do all my paperwork whenever he wasn't breathing down my neck, bugging me to go out and do something with him, or just downright distracting me. I was in a good mood for about a week. But then it hit me that I was going to have to sit by myself in this quiet whenever Finland went back home. I had to sleep alone every night for the next nine weeks. I had no one to entertain me in my house except the fairies and trolls.  
Iceland stopped by once... (he looked pretty alarmed when he found me lying on my couch at 3:00 in the afternoon, still wearing my pajamas and eating a huge chocolate bunny). He just wanted me to help him with his chemistry homework. He didn't even stay for dinner because he was too busy trying to get to Hong Kong's house; apparently he was spending the night there. Whatever. I was done obsessing over the fact that he was growing up. He hated me whenever I acted "overprotective," even though I just want to protect him.  
The days droned on. I sat around my house all day in boredom. I had watched all three seasons of the Walking Dead at least three times. I listened to every song on my iPod, all 1085 of them, at least five times. I reread all of my favorite books. I played the violin for hours on end. I wrote new songs. I even played video games.  
England and Romania came over one time, and England was just dropping off a book he'd borrowed from me (I already read it seven times in my lifetime), but Romania stayed for awhile. He managed to make me take a shower and we went and saw some scary movie together that I didn't really pay much attention to. It was somewhat interesting, but it was predictable and whenever the husband and wife got into an enormous fight, I tuned it out. I didn't need to be reminded of anything in the past.  
Romania kept trying to get my attention at the movie theater. It was getting pretty annoying. He kept saying I looked depressed, but I said I was just tired. He pointed out that sleeping too much and having no appetite are both huge signs of depression, but I insisted that I wasn't depressed. I was just bored and lonely and temporarily sad. I hate whenever people classify temporary sadness under depression: it's one of the things that bothers me the most. I've been through real depression before, I know exactly how it feels and it's a true disorder, not just being sad. But anyway, Romania kept trying to get me to do "fun" things, but they were mostly just stupid stuff Prussia had convinced him to do in the past and he apparently thought was funny. I didn't really agree, and he said I was just being pissy. Maybe I was.  
The days all melted together and I almost felt like Squidward whenever he moves away to that one place that he thought would be his paradise. I found myself thinking of that episode, and I chuckled a little bit. I remembered watching it with Iceland when he was younger, but now I could relate to it. He was so used to having that loud idiot of his around all the time, but when he finally got some alone time, which is what he thought he always wanted, it was lonely, boring, and certainly not what he'd expected. He _needed_ that loud idiot in his life. And so did I. Except my loud idiot was Denmark.  
The time is down to 2 and a half hours now. I'm actually shaking a little bit... I feel like I haven't seen him in forever. I wonder if he looks any different. Whenever Mathias told us that he would be away for such a long time due to work, our whole family was skeptical. Mathias, away for _work_? Work was something he rarely put time aside to do. It was more like something he did whenever he was bored to tears or I wasn't paying enough attention to him or I refused to let him do anything fun until he got it all done. At one point the pile of paperwork on his desk had gotten so high that I could only see the tips of his spikey hair from behind it when he sat at his desk.  
He said that his boss needed him to "travel abroad" in order to get some important things done. He was a little bit excited to go - he was going to America - but he kept saying he didn't want to leave me for such a long time. I even saw him texting Prussia how he was afraid I would find someone else while he was gone. I thought it was cute that he'd think such a thing. If anything, it should be _me_ worrying about _him_ hooking up with an American kid or something. But I trusted him enough that I didn't have to (especially after warning him that if he came back with a secret of the sort to hide from me, I'd kill him myself).  
I haven't even talked to him this whole time except once or twice whenever he had gone to America's house. He kept saying international calls were "Too damn expensive! Alfie the little asshole charges a whole shitload just for one call to Norway." He said he called from America's house because America himself didn't need to pay anything extra, since he was always placing calls to Europe anyway. His reasons didn't matter to me. I had slept with my cell phone on high volume on my nightstand every night, hoping he would call. Whenever he did, it was so good to hear his voice. He found it hard to shut up about everything he was seeing and all the "funny American things" that were happening to him, but I didn't mind. It wasn't like I had anything to tell him anyway, and he seemed perfectly content just knowing I was listening on the other line.  
One night whenever I felt particularly lonely, I actually called America's house to see if Denmark happened to be there, or nearby. America laughed, telling me I was super lucky and that Denmark was there; he was just about to leave but he was just going to go back to his hotel anyway, and that there was no rush. I think America heard the shaky loneliness in my voice, because I heard him say "Your boyfriend's got some _needs_," whenever he gave the phone to Denmark, which probably made him think that he was in for some phone sex. Whenever Denmark said "Hey baby," all suggestively into the phone and I could pratically see him wiggling his eyebrows, I almost broke down in tears. I shut my eyes tightly and replayed his voice over and over in my head. I guess my silence spoke a lot because his tone became more gentle and I heard him bound up some stairs and close a door. He whispered to me through the phone and asked me if I was alright. I stood there against the closed door to his empty bedroom, nuzzling my face into one of his shirts that I was wearing, inhaling the scent and trying to muffle my choked up noises that indicated that I was going to break down soon. The other end of the line was silent for a couple of moments before I heard him sniff as well.  
"I miss you so much, Denmark..." I finally managed to say.  
I heard him inhale. I thought I heard a little bit of shaking in his breath. "I miss you too, Norge."  
That night, I couldn't bear to hang up on him. We never said goodnight. We talked as if we were right next to each other, our phones set on speaker, and we both eventually fell asleep, only disconnecting from each other whenever America's house phone died, though I was asleep for that.  
That was almost three weeks ago. There's now an hour and a half left. I didn't realize how long I was sitting there thinking about that phonecall...  
Thinking about Denmark's return makes my heart flutter. I get a feeling of anxiousness and happiness and anticipation all at the same time. I'm not sure why I'm anxious; I know nothing has changed, but I haven't even touched him in such a long time. At least I know from that last phone call that nothing is different between us. If anything, his absence has made us closer in a way.  
...I just got off of the phone with Finland. He really talks a lot... there's only fifteen minutes left now. I doubt he'll get here perfectly on time, because he's Denmark, but it's close enough. But anyway, Finland was chattering about how he's excited that I'll get to be reunited with Denmark and how he bets that he has something romantic planned and how he'll visit first thing tomorrow. I heard Hanatamago barking in the background, and Sweden using some sort of power tool. I'm not sure how long I would be able to handle such a chaotic household. Then again, Finland was such a little housewife that I guess it's only natural for him to know how to cope with it. (I'd laugh if he ever saw this. Especially because he has tendencies to be quite the badass at times. Sorry Finny, but you know you have the perfect little family and you play the role of the wife).  
But, the minutes are ticking away agonizingly slowly. Will write later.  
-Lukas Bondevik


End file.
